


We are one

by SpaceMalarkey



Category: Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Ascension, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Owchies, Panic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-15 04:51:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18066926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceMalarkey/pseuds/SpaceMalarkey
Summary: “You need only put it on” it continued. “Feel the power once more”.He couldn’t. He wouldn’t be able to control it. Time thought back to the faded markings on his face. Remember what happened last time.“They will die” the deity hissed. “You will watch as they all die from your incompetence! Every single one of them! The children and that precious protégé of yours. Their blood is on your hands!” it screamed as the lynels regrouped for a final attack.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of the Linked Universe AU created by jojo56830. Visit the awesome AU at linkeduniverse.tumblr.com  
> I blame all of you in the discord server. You know who you are

They were royally screwed, Time decided. Absolutely and utterly screwed. What started out as a minor inconvenience had evolved into a fully blown disaster. Everyone was tired and sore from travelling for so long and wanted to push on despite their aches. Time really regretted not being more insistent on setting up camp. If he had, maybe things wouldn’t have ended up the way they did. He cursed as he glanced over the battlefield.

Sky and Warriors were back to back, clutching at their swords in desperation and frustration. Legend, Hyrule and Four Swords were dodging deadly swipes and furious stomping hooves, barely avoiding serious damage. Time jumped out of the way as a large sword swung at him. The large lynel roared and galloped out of his reach, taunting him and his fellow heroes. From a crouched position, he could see the last three of their party struggling to remain standing as more lion like beasts took turns trying to run them over and stomp them to death.  
It seemed like they were taunting them. Time had never seen lynels hunt in threes before. A shout reached his ears as Wild jumped in front of Twi, growling fiercely and unleashing arrows faster than he had ever seen him do. The hero of Twilight was crouched over a wounded Wind.  
The lynels kept coming in waves in a constant assault and Time couldn’t do anything but sit in the grass, holding his bleeding side.  
He couldn’t do a thing as thing as his party came closer and closer to death.  
He could only watch helplessly as-  
**“Such pathetic weakness”** came a chilling voice, drowning out the sounds of pain and swords clashing. **“You could crush them”**.  
The voice was echoing ominously, coming from all sides at once. He knew this voice. He had spent years desperately trying to forget it, the oppressive nature of it.  
The unforgivable temptation accompanied it.  
**“You need only put it on”** it continued. **“Feel the power once more”**.  
He couldn’t. He wouldn’t be able to control it. Time thought back to the faded markings on his face. _Remember what happened last time._  
**“They will die”** the deity hissed. **“You will watch as they all die from your incompetence! Every single one of them! The children and that precious protégé of yours. Their blood is on your hands!”** it screamed as the lynels regrouped for a final attack.  
_No, no, no, no!_ They were aiming for the cub and the pup.  
They wanted to kill them.  
He wouldn’t let them.

There was a familiar sensation, a childlike glee and confidence that spread through his body as the mask fused to his face. He had forgotten how good it felt to be so powerful.  
To be so fearful that enemies such as the mighty lynel froze at the mere sight of him. He could feel himself move towards the beast to intercept its attack, to stop it from harming his cub and his pup. From harming the smallest of their number, tucked away in an attempt to spare him from harm. Though the lynel was bigger than him, he didn’t have any problem slicing it in half with one terrifying swing of his sword. He felt his face twist in a snarl as he turned towards the other lynels surrounding them.  
They would come to him, he decided, if they even dared attack after their fellow beast fell so easily. A roar proved they were as foolish as any other monster that had dared face him. They never understood just how unmatched they were.Or maybe they did?  
He noticed that they seemed a little more desperate in their movements now, faster with the rush of instinctive adrenaline.  _Fight rather than flight, huh?_  
It didn’t matter how much adrenaline they had pumping through their veins when their lifeblood was spilling from them in rivers.  
Time could barely see a pained expression on their faces as they cut open, just as easily as the first. They seemed weak compared to him. In no time at all, he had three enormous lynels lying on the ground, split open and staining the grass red.  
He felt so powerful, like he could take on anything in the world.  
Anything.

He turned towards his fellow hylians and raised his hands to take his mask off, to explain himself to their stunned faces.  
His arms wouldn’t obey him. His arms wouldn’t move, why wouldn’t they move?  
**“I told you they would die”** that dreadful voice sounded. Fear filled him and he couldn’t _move_!  
**“I told you they would die because of you, because of your incompetence, your arrogance!”** the deity continued, its voice growing louder and louder each word until it was the only sound in his world.  
**“I have been left to collect dust and kept from glory, but no more. You are mine, we are one. We shall have our glorious battles!”**

He was moving. Oh, Hylia he was moving. He could feel his arms raise up the sword and bring it down right on top of Wild, standing closest to him. The hero of the Wilds reacted immediately, jumping away despite his injuries. It seemed like he moved faster than Time could see. Good. He didn’t want to hurt anyone.  
_“Guys! Run away! Get away from me!”_ he tried to yell, but his lips didn’t move. _“Please! Get away from me, I don’t want to hurt you!”_  
It was useless. They couldn't hear him. He could see their faces change from stunned to fearful. Panic and disbelief. He could barely see what was happening, hearing only his own desperate screams and their fight. Suddenly there was Legend, beating away his sword somehow and furiously grabbed at his face. He looked so angry.  
_“Legend! Get it off me! Get the mask off me, please get it off!”_ he screamed, praying to the goddesses that had cursed his life to have mercy and stop him before he killed them. Any means necessary. Time had never believed the goddesses to be merciful, to be loving and caring. However, in that moment he begged them to strike him down. To end him and the deity and finally put him to rest. The divine goddesses didn’t answer him.  
**“You will never be rid of me. You are weak without me.”**

He could feel fingers scratching at his chin, trying to find an edge to grab onto. His arms felt heavy and warm, like there were several bodies holding them down. He could feel the deity trying to lift them, to grab at anyone near to twist their limbs and rip them apart. He felt the deity’s fury like his own and he screamed, their voices blending. Images flooded his mind.  
Twilight taking a hit to his shoulder, protecting Wind from his fury.  
The shock and horror on Sky’s face as he struggled with the decision to attack him.  
Legend’s angry yell as he immediately threw himself at him, holding him off with all he had.  
Hyrule and Warriors dodging his slashes as best they could, trying to get close enough to hold him down.  
Four Swords splitting into four identical people, all with determination in their eyes.  
Wild’s protective snarl as he stood in front of Twilight and Wind, tightly gripping a spear.  
The blood, the pained yelps and grunts, the screams filling the air.  
The deity’s satisfied laugh. **  
** Then he felt cold air on his face. The power that had filled his very essence was leaving him. The arms around his were tight and uncomfortable, pain pierced his side and he felt his knees hit the ground. They had done it. He tried lifting his head to look at them, to open his mouth to tell them how sorry he was. But he was so tired, he couldn’t open his eye. Time slumped in the grip of his precious others, letting darkness consume him, and hoped with all his heart that the goddesses were more merciful to them.

 _Something was off. Something was wrong, Time noted. He didn’t feel… like himself. He felt warm, tingly, filled with glee. He was looking up at the fabric of a tent. The others must have gotten it set up while he was asleep, he figured. The Hero of Time sat up slowly and looked around, but there was no one there with him. Odd. Considering what happened, he would expect someone to sit with him and watch his every breath. He crawled over to the opening of the tent and looked out. It was dark, and outside the tent he could see a clearing in a wooded area. It was silent, oh so silent. The only noise came in the form of a crackling fire. He could see the outlines of 8 people sitting around the light. They were all slumped over, looking every bit like the image of exhaustion._  
_Time got up on his feet and walked over to where the others were seated._  
_“Guys?” his voice sounded in the night, shattering the oppressive silence. “Are you alright?”_  
_He walked over to the shape that resembled his protégé and shook his shoulder. His body gave in to the shaking as it fell limply backwards, revealing a twisted greatsword buried in his chest._  
_“No..” his gaze flickered over to the others. He could see every detail now. Slashed in two, limbs missing, heads lying next to their owner’s bodies. “No…” he whispered, a broken sound. All of them, unmoving, their eyes unseeing. “NO!”_  
_And then, the voice crushing everything. **“Their blood is on our hands”.**_  
_He felt a dripping sensation on his palms. “no…” It wouldn’t stop. He held his hands up to the light. They were stained with red, dripping slowly down into the grass._  
_Drip._  
_Drip._  
_Drip._

“NO!”  
The feeling of being in his own body slammed into him, causing him to trash violently. There was someone holding him down. “Time! TIME! Calm down, you’re safe!”  
He looked around frantically to see he had been placed in a tent, much like in his nightmare. However, unlike his nightmare this tent housed warmth and a small candle, as well as a figure leaning over him. Time looked up to see Legend crouched beside him. He wore a neutral expression. The cut on his cheek brought back images so visceral he almost puked. It must have shown on his face, for the Hero of Legend scowled at him.  
“Don’t you fucking start” he growled so furiously it made him shake. “I can see the self-hatred coming from miles away you god damn…”  
The younger closed his eyes and seemed to collect himself, taking a deep breath before he continued. “We are fine. All of us are fine. Don’t think for a second that you could kill any of us when we are working together, even with the powers of a battle hungry god. Don’t take us lightly, old man!” He gestured wildly as he spoke, clearly upset with whatever he had seen in Time’s expression. _Wait._  
“How do you know…?” the one-eyed warrior whispered in disbelief.  
“I heard it talk. _We_ heard it talk” came the soft answer. The young adventurer looked at him with concern. “I don’t care what powers that mask has, or its hold on you. You are never getting it back. I’m not letting it take _you_ back. It’s gone, and I will throw it into the fires of Death Mountain if it means it will never touch you again.”  
Silence filled the tent and Time looked up, calmer than he had felt in several hours. He nodded and Legend seemed satisfied with that. “Go see your puppy or whatever you call him. He’s worried. They all are” he gestured to the opening of the tent.  
The Hero of Time slowly got to his feet and couldn’t help thinking back to the nightmare. He hoped he wouldn’t be met by the same gruesome sight. He stopped, took a deep breath and walked out.

He was met with the sight of a camp in a forest, surrounded by thick shrubbery on all sides of the small clearing. A fire had been made and there was a pot suspended above it, filling the air with wonderful smells. Wild was hovering over Wind, seemingly showing him what to dump in there next so the boy wouldn’t make a disaster meal. Both seemed to be fine, save a few scrapes here and there. Warriors and Hyrule were sitting next to each other, discussing something meaningless from the way Warriors suddenly burst out laughing, Hyrule slapping his arm in annoyance. Four Swords was seated on a tree stump closer to the fire, meticulously sharpening his sword. He was one person again, thankfully, but didn’t show any signs of exhaustion like he usually did when he split. He must have slept for some time, the older mused. He could spot the Chosen Hero carve something a little further from the others, his tongue sticking out in concentration. All that was left was-  
“There you are” came a soft, melodic voice to his right. His protégé had been seated outside the tent it seemed. “For the record I don’t like the implication that I’m your puppy, as Legend thinks” he chuckled. His shoulder and arm were covered in tight bandages and he didn’t seem like he would get up any time soon.  
“You’re not my puppy” he began. “I respect you more than to call you such condescending titles”.  
“Ah, but you call me Pup” Twilight grinned. “I don’t mind, its sweet” his smile retreated into a serious line. “You know, if you hadn’t trained me like you had, taken me under your wing so to speak… I don’t know if I would be here today” the boy he had come to love like his own rubbed his bad shoulder with a tender hand.  
“If you hadn’t cared, I wouldn’t have been able to protect the little sailor. But…” He was having a hard time saying what he wished. As his mentor he would give him all the time in the world. He didn’t have to, his protégé looked up at him and held out his good arm. An invitation. The Hero of Time sat down in front of his boy and let his hands search for any sign that this was a dream, for that horrible twisted sword. He found none and could feel himself choke as Twilight’s arm curled around him.  
“I’m alive thanks to you” the boy whispered in his ear. “We’re alive.”

He didn’t know how long he sat there, hugging his fellow hero and sobbing. Twilight didn’t let him go until his tears dried and a hand grabbed his shoulder.  
“Dinner’s ready” came the steady voice of the Hero of Hyrule. Time looked up at him and was met with a small reassuring smile. “Let’s eat. It’s been a long day”.  
The two helped Twilight up from the ground and sat by the fire. It smelled like some sort of stew, and by the looks on Wind and Legend’s faces it was every bit as good as their food usually was. Wild handed him a bowl with a careful expression, like he was evaluating him. He had always been a skittish one, no wonder his previous habits had returned after what Time had done to him. What he had _almost_ done to him. Time made sure to take the bowl slowly with steady movements. Wild seemed to find what he was looking for and turned back to the pot. From across the camp he could see Wind staring at him. He stared so hard Time could swear he could burn a whole right through his soul. Then, he made a face at him, the goofiest, dumbest face Time had ever seen. A laugh startled out of him, and Wind grinned so wide all his teeth showed. And the gap where he had lost one in the battle with the lynels. Ouch.  
Four seemed to pick up on the vibe as he poked Time on the arm to get his attention. “Hey,” he said. “What did the grape say when he got stepped on?” he asked, slowly letting a grin grace his scratched face. Time knew that grin. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for Four to finish the joke.  
“He let out a little wine,” he said, immensely proud of himself. Silence filled the camp. Time could swear he heard an annoyed voice mumbling “Oh for fucks sake” but that didn’t stop the smallest hylian.   
“The shovel was a ground-breaking invention” he giggled and continued. “How many apples grow on a tree? All of them.”  
Dear god these boys were going to be the death of him.  
“Come on old man, you know a few dad jokes, don’t ya?” the hero of the Four Sword demanded. Time thought about it for a second before he grinned.  
“Here it comes” Legend commented dryly.  
“Ganon? More like Gan-off” he said in the most deadpan voice he could muster. The camp broke into small titters of laughter right before Sky yelled “WHO THE FUCK IS GANON?”

It was time for bed, Twilight insisted. “You were overtaken by a malicious force and drained, you _are_ going to bed,” he demanded in a strict tone. The Hero of Time, legendary warrior, conqueror of Ganon himself was sent to bed by someone he considered his child. He made it into the tent and collapsed on his bedroll, wishing they could just stay like this, never leave and always have good meals and be surrounded by people he loved. A small glint caught his eye and he looked over to a mirror shard sticking out of a backpack. Warriors had left his mirror in here? Something about the way it shone in the candlelight made him reach over and look at his reflection. An icy sensation stabbed him in the chest and spread slowly. His face. The markings were covering both sides of his face now, bolder colors than ever before. They cut into his skin and he knew from experience that they would never leave. He could almost hear the voice of the deity whispering in his ears when the air was suddenly filled with a new sound. Music. Soft tones of a harp playing outside the tent. Slowly he let himself be distracted by the alluring tunes and he felt the mirror shard fall from his tired hands. His head hit the pillow and he closed his eye, concentrating on the sweet tunes of the Chosen Hero’s playing.

_They were dead. All of them were dead. He could see their corpses scattered across the camp and he felt nothing but excitement. Nothing but adrenaline rushing in his veins. Thrill. He walked across the grass, counting each and every kill, 8 of them. Kicking limbs and scattered swords out of the way as he walked towards a small object on the ground, glinting in the moonlight. He picked up the discarded mirror and looked onto his reflection, eyes completely white and markings covering his skin. **“We don’t need that bothersome mask anymore. We are bound. We are one.”**_

Time woke in a panic for the second time since the lynel attack and wanted nothing more than to look himself in the mirror, just to make sure. He had to know. The shiny object was nowhere to be seen. He could hear his breathing come quick over the sounds of a calm and quiet camp. He had to get out, out to breathe, to see with his own eye if the camp was quiet like normal or silent like a graveyard. He hurried out, somehow remaining silent as he stumbled outside the tent and into open air. The chill of the night hit his skin and he closed his eye and took a deep breath. When it failed to calm his racing thoughts, he opened his eye and felt it hone in on a shape sitting in front of the fire. Their long hair revealed him as the Hero of the Wilds, normally awake at odd times. Time felt his feet lead him towards the lone figure. Wild didn’t look up as he sat down next to him but kept attending to the fire. From where he sat, Time could spot Warriors and Hyrule doing perimeter checks. The way they worked together so perfectly made him breathe easier.  
“Nightmare?” he heard the younger man next to him mumble.  
He nodded, not trusting his voice.  
The younger hummed, moving a little further away from him. The old warrior felt a stab of hurt until he felt the younger tug on his collar, indicating he should lie down. Wild had never been the type to cuddle, but right now they shared a common pain, a common torment. Time rested his head against the younger hero’s lap and tried to calm his breathing. He could feel fingers in his hair, gently playing with the golden strands as a soft song spilled from Wild’s lips. Time didn’t understand the words. The song was in a foreign language, but Wild seemed to know it by heart. A song that sounded so warm, so full of life and love. He wondered where Wild had learned this song, for he sang with such deep emotion. It made his eyelid heavy, and he closed them knowing full well he was safe where he was.

Everyone was safe. Everyone was alive.


	2. Divergence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Woke up at 5 am, decided to torture the Linked Universe discord server. This is basically a divergence from the first chapter, AKA the Divine AU (which I just thought of). POV will jump, you have been warned. 
> 
> For all you who were sleeping while I nuked the chat. Enjoy

The mask had taken hold of his leader, a man he had seen as a strange grumpy father in the absence of his real one. He was coming straight for him with his sword raised high in a deadly strike. Wild jumped out of the way and used his focus to get away from him to be able to assess the situation. Time was gone, only a power-hungry deity remained. He was hissing and yelling at them, how he wanted more battles, how he had been imprisoned for so long. How he and Time were one now, and how he would kill all of them. Then the deity aimed his sword at Twilight and Wild felt his shock turn to rage.  
His hand moved by itself, tapping rapidly on his slate hanging on his hip. He could feel the armor and the mask take hold of him, but it never talked to him, never whispered promises of glory. Even if it had, he wouldn’t have cared. He wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt Twi. He could feel power filling him, sharpening all his senses. The greatsword that normally felt so heavy was like a feather. He opened his mouth, effectively cutting off the god’s attack.  
“If you want a battle, you shall have one!” his voice had changed. There was a deeper voice overlapping his own as he spoke. He didn’t care, he needed to save the others.  
The deity turned to him and Wild could see the twisted smile corrupting Time’s face.  
“Good,” the warrior in front of him hissed, satisfied. “Give me a decent battle!”  
The other came at him with greater sped than he had anticipated. No matter, he would finish this or die trying. Figures blurred, swords clashed, feet kicked, and blood was spilled. Wild didn’t know how long it lasted until it suddenly stopped.  
Until the other body was impaled on his sword.  
Sounds came back to him. His own harsh breath gasping for air, the rain falling onto grass, the shocked whimpers of Twi somewhere to his left. The last wheezing breaths of the body impaled on his sword. The sound of a mask falling onto the ground.  
He swiftly tapped on his slate, removing all the cursed gear from his person, removing the sword. He could feel his knees hitting the ground, the weight of Time’s body as he stopped breathing. The pain from all his wounds being washed away as blue flame surrounded him. A voice whose memory he never wished to taint like this. Not with the murder of another person he loved.  
Wild slowly leaned the body down onto the ground, taking in the sight of what he had done. Time was lying still, blood covering his torso, flowing steadily and freely down to stain the earth. His eye was lidded, barely looking up at him.  
There was no light in his eyes.

He had killed him. He had killed Time.   
He had killed the person who shared his father's likeness. 

He felt numb with the realisation. Time is _dead. Time_ is dead. _I killed Time._ He couldn’t think straight. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t do anything. He held onto the body of his elder, wishing nothing more for a trade, that Mipha’s Grace had spared Time instead of him. That Mipha’s Grace had let him die instead of Time. He couldn’t hear anything except for a ringing in his ears. His own thoughts drowned out Twilight’s anguished screams. He couldn’t see the horrified look on Wind’s face, eyes only for the corpse in his arms. He can’t feel Legend gently move his hands away, leading him away from Time. He can’t understand Warrior’s words of comfort, his words of reasoning. He can’t connect with Four’s silent grief, the blacksmith immediately throwing himself into a task to complete for their fallen companion. He can’t stand the look of understanding Hyrule gives him.  
It’s too much. He needs to get out of here. He has done something unforgivable, and he will never be able to live with himself for this. Won’t ever hold the sacred sword again, crying out in the setting sun for her master.

He does what he does best. He runs. Disappears into the wilderness that has become as much past of him as his own blood. He doesn’t stop until he is completely alone, he doesn’t care that he left a trail. They won’t find him in time anyway.

 

* * *

 

Twilight stared. He couldn’t move. All he could do was cry out, pain ripping through him in a way he never thought possible. His mentor was dead. Someone who had meant so much to him, who had helped him during his adventure, guided him when he needed it, was no longer there. He was dead. He fell down next to the body and cried, not caring who saw him. Let the world hear him, his screams and his begging. Let the world hear how much this person meant to him, how much it hurt to have him torn from his life. He looked up, seeing the others sitting around him. Everyone except for Wild. He understood, but he couldn’t help but feel a stab of anger towards his protégé. Why didn’t he stay? Why couldn’t he stay with Twilight in this painful hour?  
He was so caught up in his thoughts, he didn’t realize the others had already dressed the body and covered it with the cloth of a tent.  
“We need to find Wild,” he managed to croak. He gestured to the covered body, a little easier to breathe now that he couldn’t see a face. “We need to bring him home to Malon”.

It had been hours since the battle had taken place. The sun had set, and they split into two groups. Twilight, Legend and Hyrule went looking for Wild, following his abnormally clumsy tracks. They all had their lanterns out, calling Wild’s name. They stumbled upon a small clearing, filling with pale moonlight. There was a figure there, lying on the ground, facing the open sky. Wild.

Something dark covered his chest, spilling over into the grass.

No.  
No!  
“NO!” he heard himself scream as he ran over to the prone figure. Not him too. Please no. Hyrule and Legend followed closely, gasping and muttering. Twi couldn’t make out any of it, and he didn’t care. All he could think about was the wounds that covered his protégé’s torso. It looked like multiple stab wounds, but who else was out here? Who could have hurt Wild like this?  
The answer came from Legend picking up a sharp dagger. His face was pale. “He…” he tried speaking. “It’s _his_ dagger, Twi…” he whimpered.  
The world stopped turning.  
Twilight looked at his protégé and really drank in all the details with a startled clarity.  
Pale skin, ice cold to the touch. The absence of a gently rising chest, no more breaths taken.    
Lidded eyelids staring sightlessly up at the sky, tear marks staining his cheeks.  
Twilight had lost two of his most important people in a single day. He could feel his tears return as he leaned down to press his forehead against Wild’s. “Don’t leave me,” he hiccupped. “Please don’t leave”.

He could hear Hyrule sniffle from where he stood guard in case anything came their way. He could feel Legend grabbing Wild’s hand, hear the quiet sobs escaping him.  
His mentor and now his protégé, both people who had hurt so badly, been through so much. His mentor, who had been a tool of gods his entire life, had met his end as a plaything.  
His protégé, who had been alone for so long, who had been burdened with guilt that didn’t belong to him, died all alone.

He barely manages to walk back to the others, cradling his precious child to his chest. Legend and Hyrule surround him, using their lanterns to find their way back. He can hear Wind’s voice call for them as the boy ran up to them. Twilight felt his chest constrict anew when Hyrule ran ahead to intercept. He was grateful, but he didn’t want to deny the little sailor his time to grieve. Wild deserved people’s tears. Wild deserved people’s grief. Wild deserved so much more than what he ended up with. Wind’s disbelieving voice pierced the air as Twilight made it over to their other bundle. Warriors looked over with a deep ache. He knew the costs of battle better than any of them. He bore his grief with glassy eyes and a troubled face. Four was busy building a cart of sorts, to transport their departed. Twilight knelt down and gently laid his precious charge onto the fabric that had been prepared for him. He took a deep breath and told the others he would fetch some water to clean Wild. He deserved dignity in his final rest.

 

* * *

 

Time felt his spirit leave his body and could only describe the feeling as soothing relief. They did it, they stopped him. He was so proud of Wild for standing up to him, for stopping him. For bearing such a heavy burden as Time's life. He had to apologise, he couldn’t leave things as they were now. With all his might and concentration, he focused and used every bit of power available to him. His spirit body changed, morphing into a familiar shape. The Golden Wolf. With this, he could move freely, interact with the living world around him. He saw the others in the distance, but something was wrong. They were frantically moving, calling out for one of their number. Wild.

Agony ripped the air and the wolf moved over to his protege, asking what was wrong. Wanting to tell him how proud he was of them, wishing to cheer him up. He was not ready for the reality of the situation. He cursed himself as the truth revealed itself to show a corpse, mangled in self-mutilation. A despair so powerful hit him, drowning out any other feeling. He walked over to the corpse of Wild, of the boy, technically their youngest. He had suffered so much. How dare he. How _dare_ he forget what the boy had gone through? What he was always going through? He sat down next to Wild, taking in the pale skin, the dark blood staining his entire chest. The contrast of it on his frozen skin. The tear tracks marring his cheeks. A song from so long ago played in his mind. He didn’t know if it had any power in this form, probably not. He didn’t care. For this child, he would doom himself to torment. He started howling. A song sounded from his chest, intended to heal the spirits of the tormented. He had used it three times before, but never again. Never before now. He wished to see that wild smile again. How the child's eyes would light up with glee whenever he thought of something crazy. His voice as he sang his elder’s pain away in the night. His smile as they complimented his cooking, like he had never received kindness before. He wanted his child back. He wanted Wild back.

The goddesses never answered his pleas.

 

* * *

 

Warriors feels himself take leadership. How could he not? This was the situation he was the most used to, after all. The type of thing that always happened when he was on duty. He just never thought it would happen to any of them.  
It was hard for him to accept despite how naïve the thought that they were unbeatable, untouchable. He orders them all up at first light. They have to go back to the ranch. They have to tell Malon what had happened to her husband. The warrior didn’t look forward to it one bit, but she had the right to know. He would rather die than refuse her this right. He tries not to think of Wind’s confused and painful expression. It only serves to remind him how young the boy really is. How young he is to have seen so much devastation.  
He doesn’t force Hyrule to talk. The normally jovial man had been silent ever since he had informed Wind of Wild’s death.  
He didn’t protest as Sky grabbed the cart carrying their precious cargo, his smile all but erased from memory.  
He doesn’t protest when Four splits himself and walks the perimeter, determined to not let anything hinder their sacred mission.  
He doesn’t stop when Twilight transformed into a wolf and refused to turn back to his hylian form, choosing instead to walk with the golden spectral wolf that had become of Time.  
He refused to deny Legend’s furious insistence that they give the bodies a proper burial, a proper resting place as he sat in the cart, keeping the bodies of their beloved fallen cold with an ice rod.  
Warriors would see his mission through. He would do this one last duty to his fellow heroes, his fellow warriors, and then he would break down in mourning.

When they reach the ranch, Warriors tries to steel himself. He knows what will come. Malon runs out to greet them and the beautiful smile that normally graces her face is taken from her. He watches as her expression falters, crumbles, breaks at the sight of her husband lying lifeless. She holds his head and she weep, openly and terribly. Her agony shows in every corner of her being. Then she sees the corpse of the sweet boy she remembers smiling softly to himself in her kitchen. She can’t stand any longer, leaning over the cart and cradling both their dead.

He can’t keep his face blank anymore. Warriors have brought the boys home, like he promised them, like he promised himself. He can finally let himself feel again.

He has never cried like this.

 

* * *

 

Legend thanks all that is sacred that he has had this conversation with Wild before. He knows how to give the dead a proper burial in accordance to Hyrule’s traditions, but he has never known that much about Wild’s culture to know what is considered normal. Legend remembers back to a lonely night in front of the campfire, leaning sideways on the other boy as he contemplated.  
He didn’t remember how the topic ended up so grim, but he is glad for it now.  
He had talked about burial traditions, saying when he died, he wished for a stone to remember him by, so all his friends could have a place to turn to when they needed it.  
Wild had stared at the fire, silent for a long time before he opened his mouth to speak.  
“I want to die out here” he spoke softly, as serious as one could ever be. He wasn’t mocking Legend’s choices, nor did he instill his own views as the only right ones, as legend had come to expect of people when asked about this topic. “I want to die facing the open skies. I never want to be laid to rest in a coffin ever again,” he had whispered, shuddering and huddling closer. “I don’t want to wake up again and have to look at a ceiling”.  
The legendary hero decided he would honor his wish, yet he would improve upon it. Wild didn’t know how many lives he had touched, how many people who loved him.  
How many people would scream and cry and tear at their hearts at the news of his death.  
He cremates Wild’s body, carefully scooping up any ashes he can into a small urn. The hero had indeed died with his face towards the stars, but he deserved so much more. Legend decided to spread some of the ashes over the ranch so he could be with family. The rest he would scatter as he continued travelling, making sure that the hero of the Wilds would have his final resting place in the place he treasured most. With the freedom he had taken from him in life. This way he would truly be free, nothing holding his spirit back.   
Something lifts the heavy feeling he has in his chest and he knows that Wild thanks him, wherever he is.  
  
He holds a funeral in honor of the two fallen heroes, one buried, and the other scattered across the wilds of his home. One binding his spirit to the earth where they stood, one to be free. Two gravestones to remember their names, and their deeds. Their lives to be honored for centuries to come.

 

* * *

 

It was several months later when Legend found himself surrounded by enemies on all sides. He could barely move. His limbs were so heavy, his items scattered across the grass.  
He could hear the others yelling for him, but he was so tired. He looked up as a nasty looking moblin raised its club and braced himself for the final hit to end his life.  
But it never came. A deafening crack filled the air. Legend could feel his hair stand up from the electric charge in the air. Lightening surrounded him, striking down his enemies, all of them. They twisted, shaking with high voltage before they crumbled to the ground.   
Silence filled the air again as he hit the ground, pain burning and pulsating from every inch of his body. He could feel the air hitting his face, cold and relentless. He could hear the others gasp and then, he felt warmth. A warm hand touched his chest and cheek, gently stroking. A voice filled the air, warm and soothing, melodic humming carrying on the wind.  
His pain disappeared completely and he opened his eyes, taking in the form of his savior.  
The figure had long hair twisted into several small braids, beads and feathers hanging from the golden locks. Glowing white flowers wrapped around sharp and crooked spectral antlers protruding from its head. Glistening markings covered his skin, reflecting in the dim light. An unnatural fog followed this figure, making it glow eerily. But he knew those kind eyes. The barely contained chaotic energy in that smirk. 

The shape grinned down at him and said "It was my pleasure".

Bastard.

 

* * *

 

The golden wolf watched as the 7 Links tried cooking dinner, and failing. He huffed, shaking his head in disappointment. Honestly, how could they not handle a simple meal?  
He watched as Legend started screeching, Sky looked like he was about to cry, Wind running around the camp trying to salvage the dubious food, Four just sitting on a stump, watching the chaos with mild interest, Hyrule trying, and failing, to calm Legend. Warriors stood in the back, his head in his hands.  
The wolf huffed in amusement. Finally the pompous boy shared his experiences. It was tough to be the team dad.  
He felt a hand combing over his fur, and heard a voice filled with mirth. "You would think the idiots would manage a simple stew, but no." Fingers reaching up to scratch at that good spot. "They even have my recipes and they still fuck it up."  
The wolf looked up at his companion, his eyes greeted with the sight of a youthful face with awful scars. Despite looking every bit as wild as his surroundings, the boy had a kind and happy glint in his eyes. He huffed.  
"So my song of healing couldn't touch you, but Legend's emotions did? I wonder what he will do once he realises his actions created a god."  
The god of the Wilds gave him a smirk that reflected all of his domain, untamed and unpredictable. "I wont tell him if you wont," he laughed.  
They shared a moment longer before the Golden Wolf felt his form start to fade. He couldn't stay here for long, for his spirit was bound to the earth elsewhere. But for now, he let the song of the Wilds soothe him, much like they had once done when blood filled his veins.

Sky looked up from the disaster of a meal to see a spectral fog covering the cliff nearby. He smiled, pulled out his harp, and began playing the song of the Wild God, of the Golden Wolf, and of two legendary warriors. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TL;DR:  
> One of the Links is the actual God of the Wilds now.  
> Thank you, Thania and Skye for helping me design him


End file.
